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deadhands69 · 2 months ago

Note

I was wondering if you would do a request for Shigaraki, that was angst, and the main idea is that reader is like a sister to Shigaraki, and they both die, and its just really Angsty, but i don’t want a reader x character, esp if they’re like siblings, bc thats lowkey weird but, um sorru, anyways, its fine if you don’t want too!!

Claw Marks

Tomura Shigaraki & Reader [platonic]

thanks for the request anon! I went with something between an AU and canon, hopefully this is at least somewhat close to what you had in mind? Contains: cussing, zombie-like apocalypse, angst, everyone dies.

“Everything I've ever let go of has claw marks on it.”

You scribbled that on the cover of your notebook years ago, but you never would have imagined you'd be thinking about it in this context.

The windows are boarded up, but the lamp in front of you faintly flickers at the air hissing through the cracks. It’s not perfect, but it’s what you could do with what you have.

What you had.

You’ve been in this place for days, slowly making your way through the tiny reserve of food you stashed. Whatever you and Tomura managed to shove in your backpacks on the way out the door when you naively thought this would blow over quickly. When you thought all you'd need were a few granola bars and a bag of gummy candies. After all, you were just about to head to the grocery store on your way out.

It’s funny to think back on, in a fucked up way.

Water is more of an issue than food. The pipes broke somewhere outside what feels like far too long ago. Or maybe the treatment center is down. In any case, the cause doesn’t matter. The reality is: you’re thirsty, Tomura’s thirsty, and you’re not even going to talk about the things you’ve resorted to doing while trying to solve that.

This isn’t the apocalypse you wanted.

It’s not what you thought it would be.

You can remember hypothesizing about it, back when that was fun to do. When it was all theoretical and your survival didn’t hinge on good luck. You remember laying on his bed watching him play video games and the two of you had it all figured out. Of course you did, you’ve played every game and watched every movie.

It would be easy.

You’d make it out of civilization.

You’d move into the forest and start a new life there.

You’d thrive in the collapse of society.

Or maybe you'd only make it to the edge of the city, go into hiding, and be forced to close the world in on yourselves little by little.

The reality is, supplies were sparse and neither of you lived next to an armory. When you finally did find a weapon, you were out of ammunition within the hour.

You think back to the brief thrill. The feeling that you were saved and nothing bad could happen now. The two of you made it to the suburbs with that, watching each other's backs while he took out any threats. The blasts jarred you at first but after a while, nothing could phase you. It's like you were in another world and everything but survival was tuned out.

Until you ran out of bullets.

There were just too many of them and they were moving too fast.

There are too many of them, even more now.

The thought makes you sick. You haven't slept much since it all began. It's not the threats looming on the other side of the wall that get to you, it's the invasive thoughts asking what went wrong. Where you could have done better.

You don't have an answer to this and it wouldn't matter if you did.

By the time you tried to escape the city, cars were piled up blocking every exit making vehicle travel impossible. It's amazing you made it this far. Running to the first house you saw as the hoard closed in. Of course, it had already been ransacked by then but you were just happy for the refuge. Looking down for the first time all day at your scrapped up knees and bloodied knuckles.

That was only a week ago but you swear it was a lifetime.

It’s all relative.

The lamp is turned down as much as possible, but you’re still running low on oil. It’s filled with the last of your reserves but it won’t make it through the night.

You fear you won’t either.

Earlier, you talked about throwing it, letting this whole house burn down in a blaze of kerosene while you make your grand escape, but it’s no use. There’s too many of them and too few of you to fight anything off.

And you’re surrounded.

You know you’re surrounded because you can hear them. Scratching at the walls. Prying the boards. Their high-pitched cries piercing through the neighborhood.

Video games gave you the wrong idea: building materials are sparse and you found yourselves ripping up the cabinets for lumber. Shoving anything in reach over the gaps and using your quirk to harden it but it only crumbled after a day or two.

No amount of barricading can stop the sounds. The incessant scraping and grating that haunts you. The screeches are worse. They’re in the house, just on the other side of the door you reinforced when they broke through the windows you didn’t have enough wood to cover.

Making the world smaller little by little.

This is as small as it gets though, there’s nowhere to go from here.

The thought is crushing.

Neither of you want to say it, but you both know. You can sense the end is near and you’re stumbling around it. Talking about memories. Apologies. Regrets. Anything but saying it out loud.

Running through the streets, you were so glad to have Tomura with you. There's no one you would have felt safer with. Everything is always okay when he’s around.

He's always been like a brother to you. The best friend you could rely on for anything. A big warm security blanket that wraps around your life and never lets anything bad happen. He’s a few years older than you, but he took you under his wing when he saw how everyone else was treating you as kids. You’ve been inseparable since.

Your quirks are similar, alienating. Everything turns to stone at your touch and it all falls into dust from his.

Neither of those can help you now.

The people outside were like you once. They probably all thought they’d survive too, until someone touched them spreading the cursed quirk further in the deadliest game of tag imaginable.

Skin to skin contact seems to be what does it. Or skin to clothes? You aren't really sure and you don't want to find out which means you can’t risk getting close enough to use your own quirks without it spreading. The thought of it taking over your body, making you not you is nauseating.

You wonder if they’re still in there. If it’s as painful as it looks.

Meta abilities have always been a ticking time bomb, just waiting for the day someone gets the doomsday quirk. Tomura thought it was him. So did you, for a time. But this is on another level. All it took was one kid somewhere touching a few people when their quirk awakened and now it’s everywhere.

You watch as the flame flickers down to nothing with the last of your hope. Your stomach drops and a cold chill runs through you.

The lamp is out, the affected are outside, and they are screaming.

Everything you've ever let go of has claw marks on it and fuck, did you gouge hard to hold onto what you had left of life. You did everything you could, but you've run yourself into a corner and there's nowhere left to claw to from here.

It wasn’t supposed to be like this. Not for you and especially not for Tomura. He deserves better and you can't bear to watch him lose to this and become one of them.

The boards are beginning to crack. Breaking from the weight of bodies lunging against them outside. One pops off the wall entirely.

You glance to Tomura, he nods. This is it. Your heart is pounding out of your chest. After everything, you always thought you'd keep each other safe but in the end this turned out to be the better option.

The only real option.

Everything in you is still scrambling for a way out. Even now, some small part of you believes that if you try hard enough you can find the key to unlock a new ending.

But there isn't one.

And you're still stuck in here.

A huge bang rings through the room as the boards come crashing down from the window panes.

Grabbing his hand, you find that he is shaking just as hard as you are. It’ll be okay though. It’ll be okay because he’s here and that means it has to be okay. You’re not alone. It reminds you of every other time you've held his hand. Running through fields as children, fingers wrapped awkwardly with a few stretching away. For a second you swear you can feel the warmth of every sunny happy day you spent together. The good blurs with the bad and in the end, it's all the same.

Laughing in the playground.

Crying after school.

Giggling as you binge watched horrible movies together.

It's all the same in the end.

And it was okay.

It was always okay because you had each other. You were never alone.

Arms press through the gaps, followed by shoulders. Their cries grow louder as their tortured faces burst through what was once a window.

The two of you lace your fingers together and press down hard.

You look up at Tomura with fear in your eyes.

It's okay.

At first it tickles, then

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